


Are We Out Of The Woods Yet?

by MsHermia



Series: Irondad/Spiderson Whumptober 2020 [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Broken Bones, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark are Siblings (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Endgame, Precious Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Lives, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27016915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsHermia/pseuds/MsHermia
Summary: Peter takes Morgan into the depths of a National Park so she can collect samples for a biology project. They run into trouble.Whumptober Prompt No. 12 - I think I've broken somethingBroken Down |Broken Bones| Broken Trust
Relationships: Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Irondad/Spiderson Whumptober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971784
Comments: 48
Kudos: 211





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> I'm using my own Fix-it to Endgame "Like You'd know how it works" as a basis for the timeline, though the prompt will work fine without having read that story. The important part is, that Tony's not dead.
> 
> Baseline: circa 4 years after Tony is brought back from the multiverse.

"There are so many reasons why online classes are better than going to school."

Peter shook his head. "And there are plenty of reasons why learning in school with other students is preferable. How it helps retain the material better than—"

Morgan groaned without even looking at him, her nose in the air, eyes on the leafy trees above them. "You can learn the same things at home, only then you could have dinner at night with us instead of in your stinky room in Boston."

"Hey," he craned his neck to see where she went, then walked after her. "My room doesn't stink."

"It's a boy's room." She said it like that alone was a valid argument, when it couldn't be further from the truth. In fact, the girl's dorms he had been in—

He stopped himself. Not the time and place.

"Or you could go visit May!"

Peter had his hands in his pockets, trying to keep up with her. "Right."

"You should!" She turned towards him and pointed her phone at him. "You should come with me and mom. She's taking me next time she flies out to HQ."

That startled Peter. "She is?"

"Yeah, in like two weeks or so. You should come, Pete! It'd be so much fun."

Peter pulled a grimace, even if her excitement was infectious. He hadn't been in LA since before the semester had started and he did miss May, but he'd also been looking into a weekend or two at Yale, wondering, hoping, that things with MJ—

"So, what do you think?"

He forced his mind back to the present. "I think you shouldn't run off that far, Morg."

She cocked her head at him, then blinked and made her eyes roll up high towards the treetops. A performance that was only second to the master, her dad.

"You sound like Tony," she groaned.

Peter pulled a face. "Don't call your dad by his first name. That's just weird."

Her eyes were scanning the trees, hoping to pick up the last couple of tree species that she needed to catalog for her biology project. "You call him Tony."

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, what's the difference?"

Peter screwed up his face at the question. "That he's not actually my dad?"

"Oh please..."

She vanished behind some undergrowth and for a moment Peter's Spider senses tingled and his heart jumped into his throat. That olive green jacket she was wearing didn't help her stick out either. Sure, he had the nano-housing units secured on his forearms, but those were only the last resort. The very last resort. The gig would be up if he popped up as Spider-Man from behind a tree and Morgan, she couldn't know. Not yet, they had agreed. Hurried steps through the trees had him almost fall over a large root until he found her, crouching down on the ground. Her phone still in hand, she took a picture of a random weed.

"What are you doing? I thought we were looking for trees."

"We're looking for biodiversity and this is rare basil-mountain mint, which will likely win me this thing."

Peter blew out a long breath, telling his pulse to calm the fuck down. He just hated not having her in his sight. "Just don't wander off like that."

"I didn't wander off. I just walked." Morgan stood up, wiping the dark forest soil off her knees. "Plus, don't change the subject."

"What subject?"

"Why it's okay for you to call daddy _Tony_ and not for me?" She didn't even look at him, eyes on her phone screen. "Is that a weird boy thing?"

"No, it's..." Peter shook his head. "It's a your his daughter and I'm the weird dude that comes around to eat out his fridge thing."

Morgan's eyebrows were pulled up not unlike Pepper would when she was arguing with Tony. "Harley calls him dad..."

"Not to his face."

"Ya-ha!"

"Nu-uh!" Peter turned his back, not interested in discussing that in the slightest. Harley, well, was Harley. It wasn't the same. He had years to build that bond with Tony, when Peter had had, well, fewer years.

"I'm 8, not an idiot, you know."

"I don't know, you're giving a great impression of one..." He had said it louder than he meant to and he hadn't really meant to say it at all.

Morgan stood up straight like he had taken an actual shot at her. Her lips were pressed into a tight line and she swung around, explicitly away from him, and stalked in the opposite direction.

"Morg..." He blew out a long breath that had his overly long hair blow across his forehead. "Come on, you know I didn't mean that."

She turned on her heel, eyes sparkling - which he hoped was with annoyance, anger even, and not with tears - and gave him the finger. Two of them, actually.

He was a horrible influence on her. Well, it was him or Harley. Probably Harley.

Still, he shouldn't have said that. She was struggling as it was, being called names and such at school, though Tony refused to get her some tutors instead. Went on and on about the social skills he never had the chance to develop in a regular school environment. Peter had to roll his eyes as his father's words echoed in his own head.

Wait... His eyes widened and he physically shook that train of thought from his mind. That girl was putting ideas in his head that he didn't need in there at all.

"Dude, the car is in the other direction..." he called after her.

Morgan still walked away from him, only tilted her head all the way back, and screamed towards the sky. "I STILL NEED TO FIND TWO MORE TREES, ASSFACE!"

He groaned, shrugging his arms in surrender as he started to follow her. "I thought that weed thingy will get you the win."

She didn't even turn, just held up the same two fingers once again as she stalked further away from him.

"Change that attitude or I'll have to bring it up in your dad's exit interview when we get back." 

Not that he actually would.

"Don't you mean _your_ dad, ASSFACE?!"

Or maybe he would bring it up...

But like a loyal puppy dog, he followed right behind her, and like a loyal puppy dog, he couldn't help but hold his nose into the wind and...

He sighed under his breath, teeth gritted as he scanned the endless forest around them. He had this feeling and that feeling never meant something cheerful. They were in a remote part of the national park. Very remote. Odds were, he might just be sensing wildlife that could get to them. Boars or... or something bigger maybe?

"Can we just... hey... Morg..." He cursed as he followed along after her. "Morgan!"

"What?!" She had stopped and turned, both her hands balled into fists.

"Can we just walked back towards the car at least?" He pointed behind himself. "I don't want to get lost in the middle of the damn woods."

He wouldn't get lost. He knew where they were, where the car was. That it would take them an hour and 10 minutes to get back to it. What he didn't like was that girl stalking deeper and deeper into the forest. He shuddered with a sudden wave of goosebumps at the thought. No, they really had to leave.

"Let's just... let's just head back. We can take a bit of a curve." He shot a glance over his shoulder, but it was just the wind ruffling the leaves above them. "I'm sure we'll find your trees on the way back."

"But I don't want to turn around yet!" She was properly mad, foot-stomping and everything.

"Hey!" Peter pulled his shoulders back, his head held high, one finger pointing at her like Tony would do to him. "When I say we go back, we go back. This is not a democratic decision."

Again, she threw her head back and groaned, but slowly trotted towards him. She had just moved past him as his ears pick up how she quietly muttered "You suck and I hate you!" under her breath.

Peter bit his lip, pretending like he didn't have any enhanced hearing whatsoever as he followed along behind her. He tried to remind himself that Morgan was just a kid and how kids sometimes say things they didn't mean because he knew she didn't really mean that.

His eyes on the ground, head bowed low, trying his best not to fall or have his eyes scratched out by any of the low hanging branches. This wasn't an environment that he excelled in so maybe that was where that queasy feeling in his stomach came from.

"How's it going, Morg? Any luck with the rest of your—" He had looked to his left, then to his right, but he couldn't see her anymore. "Morgan?" He hurried a few steps ahead, craning his neck but there was no sign of her. She must have rushed ahead. Must have stormed of that sulky, little—

"Morgan!" He cursed when a branch hit him in the face, leaving a stinging cut just above his eye. "Dude, seriously, this is not funny any—" His stomach fell into a deep hole as to his right, Morgan's voice echoed only faintly through the forest, screaming his name.

He hadn't run this fast ever. Never before, tripping over branches and roots as he went. He only just saw her brown hair disappear through the door of what appeared to be a little hunting cabin, worn down enough to seem deserted. It was just right there mid-among the trees. His feet carried him closer and closer until he reached the edge of a little meadow right in front of the small house. There was a guy next to the door, standing guard or something, openly showing off the handgun he was holding though it wasn't pointed at Peter. Not yet.

"Nothing to see here," he called across the distance. "Move along."

He had stopped, about 50 feet away from the front door, his breathing was fast and shaky, not so much from the run, moreso from his nerves. "How about you get my sister back out here and I'll think about it."

"Go' the wrong house, boy." The man pointed the gun in the direction that led back towards the main road. "No girl here. Pro'ably went ahead. Waiting at you car."

"Get her out here right now," Peter hissed through gritted teeth.

"Nobody here, move along."

The guy could play all old-man-in-the-woods he wanted, his eyes were sharp and Peter could see it. Without his senses, he might have never heard Morgan cry out earlier. He might not have seen well enough to spot her being dragged through the door frame, but he was still Spider-Man.

"I'll give you a last try. One more chance to let my sister go or—"

Peter ducked and turned, sought shelter behind the closest tree as he heard the shots that were fired in his direction. It hadn't been the old fool whose hands Peter had been watching like a hawk. No, there was someone else. Two guns that were shot at him simultaneously.

Not that it mattered. It didn't matter how closely he had thought he was watching, not to his arm that was painfully burning. Deep breaths. In and out.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he cursed under his breath.

"You're not welcome here, boy," the guy at the door hollered in his direction. "Fuck off!"

The door creaked as it was pulled open and then slammed shut with a bang. He cursed himself. Morgan was counting on him. What the fuck was he doing? One quick look determined what he knew to be true. He was dripping blood onto the forest floor. Quickly, he pulled his sweatshirt off and ripped a string of fabric off it, then did his best to one-handedly tie it around his arm.

He was still hiding among the trees but he had no doubt that whoever had shot at him was still up there.

"Fucking bastards." He didn't even think about it, just tapped the nano-housing unit on his lower arm and the Iron Spider engulfed him within seconds. It didn't matter now, his identity wasn't worth shit as long as Morgan was in danger.

**_"Peter, I've registered severe trauma to your left arm. Calculating closest medical—"_ **

"Karen, stop. It doesn't matter. It's just a graze. I need to get into that house over there. Read out heat signatures. Anything you can give me. Morgan's in there. We need to get her out."

_**"Heat sensors are activated. I record six individual signatures within the parameter of the house, one of them Morgan."** _

Fuck. Five of them. Peter closed his eyes, concentrated on his pulse, his senses. He was fine. He'd done this a thousand times. Something like this.

"There is no reception but satellite connectivity is now active to send a beacon out to Mr. Stark and the rest of the Avengers."

He was breathing hard. "Just.. just hold off on that Karen. It's... it's fine. I.. I got this. I got this." It wasn't... wasn't that bad. He couldn't have the team come out for some dudes in the woods. Mr. Stark... Tony would murder him in cold blood for this. It... this wasn't all that bad. He would just... just get her out and... and then they could tell him together and they would be safe and all of this wouldn't even be such a big deal.

"Alright, Karen. Here goes nothing."

As soon as he came out of the trees, there were more shots fired right at him. None of that phased him though. The Iron Spider was bulletproof. Karen made out both shooters, one of them hiding behind the back wall of the building, the other one had crept up onto the roof. His webs hit the one on the rooftop first, immobilizing him completely. The other guy had bolted as soon as he'd seen the suit.

From there on out, the things happening around him were a blur. A weird mixture of slow motion and an out-of-body experience where nothing mattered, nothing except Morgan. It didn't even matter that this wasn't just a random cabin in the woods. Maybe it was the fumes from the meth lab they were running in that room that were messing with his mind. Maybe he was losing more blood than he had realized.

None of it mattered, not when Morgan was kneeling on the floor, her eyes red as she cried, cried out for help, for her dad and for Spider-Man. He was winning this. He had to. And for the longest time that he was in that cabin, he thought he really was going to win this. It wasn't until he stood right in front of Morgan, the man behind her pressing a gun against her neck while she was ringing for air, that he realized the flaw in his plan.

He would never risk her. He... he couldn't risk Morgan.

Peter was frozen, couldn't do a single thing, paralyzed by fear. What if he would be too slow? What if they shot her before his webs could bind them? He wouldn't be able to live with himself. It wasn't until Morgan had started whispering his name over and over again that he realized he had let the suit retreat far enough to reveal his head at some point. That was right, they had made him do it. Said they'd kill her if he didn't. He couldn't risk that. Couldn't risk his sister.

It was the old guy, the one that had been at the door who was pointing his gun right at Peter's head now, no nanites to protect him from the impact if the man were to fire. They wanted money. Of course, they did. Not like Peter had a lot of that. Some, sure. They told him to go and get as much as he could carry and maybe, if it was enough, maybe they would let Morgan go.

"I'm... I'm not leaving her here..." His voice was cracking just like his nerves. "I'm not—"

"You'll leave her here, either breathing or not," the guy behind Morgan hissed as he pressed the barrel of the gun even firmed against her skin. "Your choice. Try anything, she's dead."

His vision was swimming, eyes burning. He had been such a fool. He should have never let her leave his sight, should have grabbed her and bolted the moment his senses had started to pick up the smallest thing. He should have called Mr. Stark. He should have...

"She's just a child. Just... let her go and... and you'll keep me."

The old guy snickered next to Peter. "Who'd pay a dime for you, huh?"

Then everything changed. A cold shiver ran down his spine. Dread and... and hope. The men couldn't hear him but Peter did. He would know those thrusters anywhere. Just as he was about to call out to Morgan, tell her to keep her eyes closed, the old man's other hand grabbed him, tightening around his throat. He pushed Peter further away from her, back against the wall right next to the door and Peter... he didn't do anything. He just let it happened, let the old bastard choke him for if he didn't, they might hurt her. If he fought, they might kill her and this was almost over.

His knees hit the floor from one moment to the next, as the old man crumbled to the ground next to him. The same was true for the man behind Morgan. Peter was just about to crawl to her, to shield her from... he didn't know what, but Iron Man blasted in through the door next to him faster than Peter could get up.

The armor around Tony retreated and he almost fell to the floor, crouching down next to Morgan. "I'm here, baby. It's okay." He pulled her close, pressed her head against his chest so she didn't see, didn't have to look at the mess around them. "It'll be okay. Don't worry, baby. It'll all be just fine."

He gathered her in his arms and carried her, heading for the door, his armor following behind him.

"You'll find your way back?"

Peter was still on the floor, his pulse still hammering in his ears. "Yes... yes, Sir."

He didn't even look at Peter as he left and it was the worst feeling in the world.


	2. Part II

It had been a warm autumn day. Thankfully, for Peter had been standing outside the Stark residence for a good hour or two and it would have been even worse in the rain. Though maybe that would have helped. Would have forced his hand a little faster.

Morgan's room was on the second floor, overlooking the lake. It wasn't a difficult climb, not for him, even if his mobility was a little limited still. The tough part had been to find a moment when she was alone. That moment came just past 6 pm. The sun was fading fast and the lights in the house started to flicker on and finally, finally, Morgan was on her own.

Her eyes went wide as he peaked in through the window. She was on her feet faster than he could gesture for her to stay in bed.

"Peter!" 

She flung her arms around him, clinging to him before he had even made it through the window.

"Alright, now..." Her hair tickled his nose and he couldn't push away the relief that flooded his veins. Relief, that she was okay. Relief, that was so closely connected to the dread he had felt in that cabin, the fear that had paralyzed him.

"I'm so sorry..." she whispered into his chest. "I'm so, so sorry! I didn't think. I should have—"

"Shh, hey, no. It's not..." He blew out a deep breath, hoping for his voice not to crack. "You didn't do anything any other kid wouldn't have done too, okay? It's not... none of this is on you, Bambi."

Peter could only hope that it would help, that it would calm her, though it never had for him. Not when he had been that kid that had been crying in someone else's arms. He tried anyway, because it was true. This wasn't on her. It was on him.

And maybe on those meth-cooking bastards, too.

He pressed his face into her hair, hugging her close, but not too hard. There was a bump on her head that he hadn't noticed before. A pretty big one. "You're okay, right? Does anything hurt?"

"No... nothing... nothing much."

"Nothing much?" He pulled away from her really looked at her as one of his hands cupped her face.

"Just... just a few bruises and..." She shrugged, avoiding his eyes. "Maybe... maybe a bit of a concussion."

"Bit of a concussion, huh?" His pulse wanted to jump but he pressed it down. That wasn't... that wasn't _all_ that bad. "That why you in bed?"

She pursed her lips and shrugged again.

"Alright then." Peter planted a soft kiss against her temple, then ushered her back into bed. "You're supposed to rest then, go on!"

"Honestly, I'm fine!" 

She didn't refuse him though as Peter pulled back the sheet on the bed. He could see them now, the bruises on her wrists where they had held her, dragged her through the undergrowth. 

"Thank you, you know, for... for staying with me. Rescuing me."

Her face was so open and sincere, Peter wanted to vanish into a hole in the ground, pulled down right into hell by guilt.

"I didn't rescue you, Morg," he whispered.

She shook her head. "But... you did... without you—"

"You send out a beacon, didn't you?" Peter swallowed hard. "To your dad?"

"Of course, I mean... I... I was supposed to, right?"

He didn't have it in him to look at her as shame was weighing him down. He pulled her phone out of his pocket instead and she snatched it from him fast enough. It had taken him some time to track it down. The light had been fading by the time he had dealt with the authorities so instead, he had gone back the next day. Karen had helped.

"Yeah." He swallowed hard, trying to force a bit of a smile onto his lips. "You did good, Bambi. I... erm..." There was a chair next to her bed and he pulled it a little closed before he sat down, trying to find his voice. "I'm sorry. I was supposed to protect you and I didn't. I... I should have paid more attention, should have realized—"

"Just, stop. Please." She had pulled her knees up, arms wrapped around her legs. "Is that why you haven't been around?"

Peter cleared his throat and shuffled back and forth on the chair a bit. He just couldn't find a non-awkward position to sit in it. "Well, I mean... pretty sure..." He shrugged, eyes on the floor. "Pretty sure, he'd kick me off the property if he knew I was even talking to you."

She tilted her head, eyebrows pulled up high. "Come on, you know better than me that nobody can climb into a window in this place without FRIDAY knowing about it and if FRIDAY knows, Daddy knows, too." She sat up a bit straighter, eyes sparkling like she had just remembered that he had actually come in through the window. "So you're... you're really Spider-Man then?"

Peter grimaced. She was watching him like a hawk and he wasn't supposed to say anything about it to her.

Her eyes narrowed when he didn't answer right away. "Or do you just like... borrow his costume from time to time?"

Peter's hand was too slow to cover up the snort he gave at that. A quick glance confirmed that Morgan was beaming though. He bit his lip to reign himself in a little. "We're not supposed to talk about that."

It would have surprised him if that had been enough for her to let it go. "It's really your costume then?"

Both his hands rubbed over his face. "It's not a _costume_ , okay?"

She didn't even hesitate a single beat to badger her questions, the most important one at first it seemed. "Hey, is that why you keep finding me so fast when we play hide and seek?"

"No, you dork!" He really couldn't keep his smile hidden any longer. "I find you because you're awful at hiding."

"Am not!"

"You keep reusing the same hiding spots!"

After an initial fit of giggles, Morgan fell quiet, her head cushioned on her drawn-up knees. "I can't believe you never told me."

Peter's eyes found hers. "You know, I never _told_ anyone." He grimaced. "I guess I suck at hiding, too."

Her face went a little slack, her eyes only got wider. "Did you not tell daddy either? Does he.. did he not know?"

Peter shook his head in confusion. "What? No, of... of course he knows."

"Oh, okay... "

He frowned, trying to get a read off her reaction. "He's the one who built the suit, Morg. I mean, you... you know, Iron Man and... and Spider-Man..."

"Yeah... yeah, no, I... I do know." She nodded, eyes a little unfocused.

His lower lip was caught between his teeth, watching her for a moment as she just sat there, lost in her thoughts.

"You wanna tell me why that makes you sad?" His voice was low, treading carefully. "That Tony already knew?"

She pulled up her shoulders in an awkward shrug. 

"Come on," he whispered, leaning towards her.

"I just..." She let out something between a sigh and a groan. "I just thought that... if he didn't know, if... if he just found out maybe that's why... why you're fighting."

Peter pressed his lips tightly shut, flinched back a little too quickly. 

"I don't want you fighting because of me," she murmured.

Peter swallowed hard. "We're not fighting because of you."

"But you are!" Her voice was shaking with emotion and he tried to ignore the tears in her eyes as she pulled her head away when he reached for her.

Peter squeezed her hand instead, mostly, because he couldn't quite find it in himself to look up at her, hoping she wouldn't notice how his own hands were shaking. "He's worried about you, is all. I... I should have kept you safe and I let him down, but that's on me and not on you."

"That's not fair! You couldn't have known."

"But I could have, that—" He said up straight, letting go of Morgan's hand. "I could have and I should have realized. Should have made different choices... better choices." Sitting next to her, he had been distracted, almost so much that the steps of the stairs creaking under heavy strides hadn't registered with him. He got up from the chair, uncomfortable having the door in his back, and shifted back towards the window.

Morgan was alert now, eyes wide. "What's happening?"

"Nothing," he pressed out. "I just... I gotta go. I can't—"

He was too late though, his attempt to get away unseen futile. The doorknob turned and as Tony pushed the door open it was Peter who his eyes landed on. There was no surprise in his mentor's face. He'd known Peter was up there. Who was he kidding, Tony had probably known he had been there the whole time, likely even knew where he'd parked the car so it couldn't be seen from the house. 

"We have a front door, you know." His eyes didn't stray from Peter's face, his chest moving up and down in heavy breaths. Agitation, but also a willingness to control it. For Morgan's sake, most likely. "It'd be appreciated if you'd use it from time to time."

Peter shuffled another step back, his eyes dropped to the floor. "Sorry... I... I'm sorry."

Tony sniffed out a breath like he was doubtful that was true, then turned to Morgan. "How are you feeling about dinner, Morguna? Up here or do you feel okay to come downstairs?"

"I'm fine, daddy..."

Tony huffed. "How's the head." Peter squinted up through his lashes and watched as Tony's hand ran through his daughter's hair, concern evident in the lines on his face.

"It's okay. We can eat downstairs, plus Peter will stay for dinner, right?" Her gaze shifted to him and Tony's along with her.

He felt like a deer caught in the headlights, his eyes wide, lips slightly parted not sure what to say. His eyes shifted to his mentor trying to read his mind. He should go. He knew he should go. Morgan was still recovering and his presence just added to the tension in the house.

"There's meatloaf for dinner."

His eyes were burning when they shifted to Pepper. Her face was a lot softer than Tony's as she stepped into the room but he couldn't deny the edge it had to it. Around her eyes, the corners of her mouth. Disappointment. Disapproval.

Peter's back was against the wall already or he would have taken another step. He dropped his gaze back to the floor instead. "I... I can't. I... I have classes in the morning."

"But..." Morgan shifted in her bed, only her father next to her likely keeping her in it. "But you always stay for dinner!"

"I just..." He swallowed hard before had it in himself to look at her. " I can't today. I... I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

He couldn't get out of there fast enough and he was fast. Too fast for Morgan to respond or Tony to react. Squeezing past Pepper was the trickiest part but he was too quick for any of them to stop him. At least right away. When the door didn't fall shut behind him, Peter knew that he hadn't gotten away that easily. Not when a second pair of feet stomped down the corridor.

"Parker." Tony was not far behind him. "A word."

Peter froze on the spot, almost a reflex at the tone of his mentor's voice. Tony was next to him in just moments.

"Just tell me one thing. Why didn't you send out a beacon? Why, Peter?"

He swallowed hard, his throat dry. "I... I don't know, I... I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. I'm so sorry."

"Don't give me that bullshit, kid, you know." He was so close to his face, anger still vibrating off him as harshly as it had on the day he had come to rescue his daughter when Peter had failed to. Had failed him. "You made a decision to keep this from me, to do this all on your own. Endangering Morgan's life. Your own life, and for what? And don't give me any fucking spiel about how long I haven't been out there flying. You don't get to make those choices for me, are we understood?"

"I..." Peter's eyes flickered up at him, a little confused but frankly, still terrified to face how much he had screwed up. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't— I shouldn't have— "

"Can you two keep it down out here?" Pepper had closed the door behind her and pulled first Tony with her and then nudged Peter towards the stairs that led to the sitting room. "You think she can't hear you in there? How you two are out here fighting?"

His head was hanging low, not daring to look at either of them as he shuffled behind them. He felt like a kicked puppy, but no. He didn't get to feel sorry for himself. This was on him. He was the one who had screwed up, who had let them down. Pepper held the door open for him to walk through then shut it behind him with a heavy clang. While Tony was leaning against the dark wooden desk that sat by the window, arms crossed in front of himself, Pepper stuck considerably closer to Peter if still at a couple of arm lengths away.

"Are you going to tell us where you've been for the past two days?" Her tone wasn't as hostile as Peter had braced himself for. Still, he made sure he kept his eyes on the floor.

"I... I'm sorry, Ms. Potts—Ms—Mrs. Stark, I wasn't... I... I didn't think I should be—"

"Hey..." She stepped closer now, cradled his face with both her hands, and made him look up at her. "None of that."

"I... I'm so sorry, I—"

"Peter..." She shook her head. "We didn't see you for two days. You didn't answer your phone. I was about to send out Natasha if it hadn't been for May's message. Tony said you were right behind him as he left from there. We were worried."

For just a moment, Peter's eyes shifted behind her to Mr. Stark who was staring at the floor as well, then back to her, wet with embarrassment and guilt.

"I... I cleaned... cleaned up my mess and..." And then he had avoided them like the plague, all of them, - minus the proof of life he had sent to May - and right now, having to face them head-on, having to face how he'd failed them, he kind of wished he had stuck to that strategy.

Her eyebrows were knitted together as she shook her head. "Your mess?"

"Just... just made sure that the authorities, they... they got everything."

"We have people for that, Pete." She shook her head in confusion. "You know that."

"I... I know, but... but I just... her name's out of it now and... and no connection to.. to either of you at all."

Pepper tilted her head, both hands still on him. "That still doesn't explain why you didn't come home."

For a moment, Peter wondered if Tony hadn't told her. If she didn't know how he had almost let these men kill her daughter. "I just... just thought I'd give you... give you some space."

One hand dropped from his face and squeezed his hand instead. "Morgan was asking for you."

"I... just didn't think that it... that it was appropriate for... for me to... I didn't think..."

This was agony. He wished they would just let him go, let him crawl into a hole somewhere, possibly his dorm room in Boston. He should be stronger than this, strong enough to face the consequences for his actions, but the magnitude of what he was losing, of how badly he had let them down—

He was fighting so hard not to fall apart in front of them. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that they should have to deal with that on top of everything but when Pepper pulled him close, wrapped her arms around him tightly, he couldn't hold back any longer. Between his hand and Pepper's shoulder, he tried his best to hide his face, to muffle his sobs. 

"It doesn't matter what happens out there, honey, we want you to come home." Her hand was on his back, rubbing soothing circles onto it. "That's the most important thing, okay? Always."

Pepper held him close, whispered soft reassurances until Peter's breathing evened out. She still stuck close after that, her hand curled around Peter's wrist. Soft strokes with her thumb over his skin seemed to mimic her breathing. Calm, collected, something to anchor him. In all that time, Tony hadn't moved, eyes never leaving the floor. It was when he braced himself against the desk behind him, his hands now gripping the edge of it, that it became crystal clear to Peter that it was his turn now.

"This is not how this goes, Pete. You know that." His voice was collected, moreso than Peter had expected. "There are rules to this, to our lives. Rules that have been in place for years to protect you. To protect Morgan."

He flinched but Pepper's hand on his wrist kept him in place. "I'm sorry, Sir."

Tony shook his head "No running away on reckless solo missions. No secret reconnaissance. Logging your movements with FRIDAY. Making sure that she knows where your last location is. Knowing when to call for help. No risking Morgan! Ever!" He had stood up straight now, his tone sharp, eyes burning. "This is not news to you!"

Peter tried his best to hold himself somewhat steady, to keep his limbs from shaking. He had nothing to say, nothing to excuse what he had done.

"Hey, Pete..." She pulled on his arm, looking for his attention. "You'll stay, alright? For the next week at the very least."

"I, erm..." Peter cleared his throat. "I... I do... I do have courses that I—"

"I don't care," she cut him off. "Tony will ask for you to be excused. Get online access."

"But..." His eyes flickered over to Tony, then back to her. "My teachers will—"

"No buts." She looked right at him, tall and determined, her stance suddenly much more reminiscent of Mrs. Virginia Potts-Stark, CEO of Stark Industries, than of Pepper. The one who would pack snacks for his road trip or remind him not to leave Tony alone in the lab past midnight. "Your sister was just kidnapped and hurt. You're still recovering from hunting these bastards down." She sighed, the frown still deep on her face. "You're shaking like a leaf. We're not going to let you leave like this. Leave you on your own in Boston."

She shook her head like the mere idea of him being on his own was ludicrous and reached up for his arm, aiming to squeeze him in reassurance but happened to press the very spot the bullet had grazed him. Even though he saw it coming, braced himself for the pain, he didn't have it in himself to keep still. Instead, he buckled and hissed a low curse. Her eyes were on him and right away he knew she could tell. She knew what was up.

"Peter Benjamin Parker, you gotta be fucking kidding me!" Pepper let go of him and retreated just one step. "Take that shirt off."

He shifted on his feet, trying to think of how he could get out of this. "It's... it's nothing. Really, I—"

"Take that shirt off right now!" Her tone was so icy, Peter felt a cold shiver run down his back.

Mr. Stark moved behind him, at last stepping closer to both of them. "Go on, Pete."

His face was hot as his hands grabbed the seam of his shirt and carefully worked it up his torso and over his head. Tony's hand was warm as it came to lie on his shoulder, urging him to turn. He did just that, his head bowed low. It wasn't even that bad. For most of the fight, Peter had worn the suit which had protected him from the brunt of the force used against him. Some bruises sure. There were just some remnants of the abrasions his sprint through the forest had left. Cuts on his arms, a dark bruise just over kidney that he didn't even remember getting and of course the bullet graze on his arm. He might have even healed up a bit better by now if he had gotten a little more rest, a full meal between now and the fight, but it wasn't him who had been important those past days.

There were goosebumps on his skin as Tony's hand traced the bruise on his back. Then the man urged him to turn a little more, his eyes on the bullet wound. Fingers probed the skin around it, light at first then a little stronger until Peter couldn't help but shrink away from the pressure.

"Did you know that he got shot?" Pepper's tone was still sharp even if this time, it wasn't directed at him.

Tony's hands shrunk away from Peter's skin and he cleared his throat. "I did not."

"This is not okay, Peter." Pepper's breathing was heavy and he didn't dare look at her. "This is so far from okay."

"Pep, you said something about meatloaf?" Pepper only responded with deep silence, not even moving. Behind his back, Tony blew out a long breath. "When did you last eat, Peter?"

He was close to actually lie, but thought better of it. Tony was likely calculating if it was because of a lack of energy in his system or the severity of these wounds that they were still painting his body. Neither would get him any plus points but lying would only get him in even more trouble. 

"Had... had a Sandwich. For breakfast." He didn't specify when that breakfast was and Tony didn't ask either, probably aware of the implication.

"Hm." That was all the man said, then gestured for Peter to pull his shirt back on. "He needs a bit of a boost."

Pepper and Tony stared at each other for another moment, until Pepper let her arms drop. "FRIDAY, about dinner?"

**_"Dinner can be ready in 18 minutes, Ma'am."_ **

Even the AI knew to be courteous right now.

"18 minutes then." With that, she turned and left them. 

Honestly, Peter didn't know if he just dodged a bullet or had been left to get chewed up by the big fish. After the door fell shut behind her, heavy silence hung between them, only broken by the strong breaths his mentor was sucking in and blowing out, reaching for control of himself.

"So tell me, is there anything I taught you that you didn't completely throw out of the window over the past 48 hours?" Tony's voice was so low, with the blood rushing in his ears, Peter barely heard him despite his senses.

He tried to breathe through his emotions, tried to collect himself to be stronger than he felt. To do at least one thing right and carry the consequences for his actions.

"Peter..."

"I'm sorry, Sir."

"Stop apologizing." The man started pacing. "Tell me what you did wrong here. Go on, I want a list."

"I..." Peter's voice was shaking and he pressed his eyes close, ignoring the tears that burned them, just trying to concentrate on sounding less like the 15-year-old he had once been, scolded just the same after another royal fuck up. "I let you down."

Tony stopped moving, just stood in front of him for a moment. "You did, Pete."

His words hurt more than the bullet that had grazed his arm. 

"But that's not what I asked."

Peter swallowed hard, nodded his head as a sign that he understood while he fought for his voice to work. "You... you trusted me with... with Morgan and I... I didn't... didn't keep her safe... Didn't protect her. Didn't.... couldn't safe her. I... I didn't ask for... for help when I should have. Didn't go to medical when... when I should have. Didn't... didn't eat like I should have."

His eyes flickered up at his mentor, hoping he had gotten everything he had been supposed to list. The man's eyes were waiting for him, concern had clearly overtaken anger by now. 

"You didn't come home like you should have, kid."

"R-right." He gasped for air hoping it didn't sound as much as a sob to Tony as it did to him.

"When the fuck did you get shot?" Peter's eyes flickered up to the man's face, a little taken aback. Tony shook his head. "You were wearing the suit, I... I don't understand." There was still a good amount of anger in his mentor's voice just.. just different. 

"I... erm..." He concentrated on the part he did have an answer for. "Just... just after they... they grabbed her and, erm..." His stomach was turning at the memories. "Pulled... pulled her in that house, they... they had a couple of guys out... out back and... and on the roof and..." He shook his head. "Hadn't... hadn't engaged the suit yet, so... yeah."

Tony's eyes were on his face, searching for something like he was trying to decipher some sort of secret code. "Why didn't you say anything? You needed medical, you know what the protocol is!"

Peter nodded, then shrugged. "It's... it's fine, I... I took care of it, I... I'm so sorry."

"Fuck's sake..." Tony ran both hands across his face. "You should have told me, I..." He swallowed hard, his eyes on Peter, unblinking. "I was mad. I... I know. I still am. I'm still fucking mad at you, kid, and I should never have left you there. Never. That... that was fucked up, okay? Morgan, she... she had never been in the middle of something like this and I needed to get her out of there, but you have. You knew you were hurt."

"I... it was fine... it was fine. I... I know you're mad. I... I know I fucked up, that I should have helped her, been... been faster and... and better, I should have—"

"Pete, this is not about you being able to protect your sister on your own." He had started pacing again. "This is about you not asking for help when you realized what was happening. Putting both of you in danger by trying to wing it on your own!" Tony shook his head, eyebrows closely pushed together in a frown as he came to a stop right in front of him. "It would be hard enough for us if something happened to Morgan. How do you think we'd feel if we lost you as well?"

Peter dropped his head, eyes on his shoes, not sure what to do now. He was just hoping for this to be over, to be allowed to crawl into a corner somewhere, but Tony wasn't done with him.

"Tell me what happened."

It wasn't like Peter hadn't expected that question. Ever since the man had sent Pepper out of the room, he had known that it was a likely scenario. Peter gave one short nod, trying to sort his feelings before he began to tell him about his senses, that feeling in the forest and how they had decided to leave. About how she had been there, never all that far off until they had argued a bit and then he just... he had just lost her. Her scream. The sprint through the woods. The guy with the gun. The men that shot at him. The blur that followed.

"I just... I was so scared and... and I..." He bit his lip. It all seemed so dumb now, so rash.

"And you?" Tony prompted.

"I... I thought if... if I'd just... just get her back then... then I wouldn't have fucked up so bad but I..." His voice hitched as that sight that had burnt its way right to his brain popped up again. Morgan, on her knees, barrel of a gun pressed against her small neck. "I couldn't... I just... just couldn't... if they... if they had shot her... if I'd been too slow, if—" He couldn't go on. He didn't know how. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. I'm so... so sorry," he mumbled through the hand that was covering his mouth. A last ditch effort for something, even if forgiveness seemed out of reach.

The man blew out a sigh. He stepped up to Peter, one arm on his shoulder pulling him in. Peter lunged for him like he was the last life raft that could keep him drowning. "Don't call me that, kid. We're so far past that, aren't we?"

Peter nodded against him, feeling foolish all of a sudden. For so long he had tried to fight against this, had tried not to let Tony get even closer. Not after how much it had hurt to lose him. Losing another father, for the third time.

"You scared me, kid. You scared me so bad, I..." The man sucked in a deep breath and slowly blew it out through gritted teeth. "If I lost you, either of you..." His voice was hardly louder than a whisper. "I can't lose you again. I can't."

Peter's breath hitched. "I... I'm sorry." He pressed his eyes shut. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Shhh, you're alright. It'll be alright." His hand was on the back of Peter's head, holding him closely pressed against him. "I love you, buddy. You know that, right?"

His face pressed against his father's chest, nodded into his shirt. "I love you, too, Dad."

The man's breaths were shaky, but he didn't let go, held on harder if that was even possible. "Promise me, you'll come home. No matter what." His father's hand on his head ran through his hair, then he turned his head just enough so he could press a kiss against Peter's temple. "Promise me!"

"I promise," Peter breathed. "I promise I'll always come back home to you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the lovely feedback and the comments! 
> 
> This was fun! Looking forward to finishing the next prompt.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first try at a prompt fill and I feel like those are usually supposed to be One-Shots, right? Well, this won't be. But I think one is also supposed to start on Oktober 1st and do them in the right order... Well, what can I say other than, it is what it is ;)
> 
> The Fix-it this is based on: [Like You'd Know How This Works](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18699736/chapters/44349406)
> 
> I'll likely use this story as the basis for more than one of the Whumptober prompt fills.


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